


this mess was yours, now your mess is mine

by orphan_account



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Gay crisis, Humor, M/M, Pining, Praise Kink, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Burn, and comes a lot, and twitches a lot, changbin gets horny a lot, everythings just A LOT, ish, shit humor but idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 10:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16721370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: From: minhoSent: 04:13, Nov 6maybe u just need ur cheeks clappedChangbin slowly closes his eyes in defeat as he lays back down on the floor again, phone resting on his chest. Maybe he does.





	this mess was yours, now your mess is mine

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to work on that cafe series but there was this video on twt where changbin jumped when someone touched his neck and,,,,yes

_‘Are u ok?’_ Is the last message Changbin gets that evening.

Out on the streets some hours later, dawn threatening the western sky, Changbin stumbles back to his shared apartment a few blocks south, head down and his hands in his pockets. He’s surprised at the message, assuming that Minho wouldn’t have noticed him slipping out of the web of bodies in that dingy club the older invited him out to. Though it’s been a good four hours since Minho sent that text and he’s probably fast asleep by now, Changbin can’t control himself from shooting a message back.

 **From: changbin  
** **Sent: 03:24, Nov 6**  
MINHOOO :((((

Before he can slip his phone back into his pocket, his cell vibrates almost immediately after he had hit send. 

 **From: minho  
** **Sent: 03:24, Nov 6**  
ew  
nvm

 **From: changbin  
** **Sent: 03:25, Nov 6**  
>:(

 **From: minho  
** **Sent: 03:25, Nov 6**  
im joking u fukcin baby  
y did u leave???  
i thouhgt u were hitting it off with chan

 **From: changbin  
** **Sent: 03:26, Nov 6**  
just wasnt feeling it  
how hungover are u btw

 **From: minho  
** **Sent: 03:27, Nov 6**  
very  
u werent feeling him? Or just in general

 **From: changbin  
** **Sent: 03:27, Nov 6**  
idk ://  
  i just need time to think abt everything 

 Which is how Woojin finds Changbin laying spread-eagle on the kitchen floor at four in the morning.  
  
“What are you doing?” Woojin asks, his voice raspy since he just got woke up and rubbed at his eyes to wipe away the sleepiness. He knows he needs to be fully awake in order to comprehend his best friend’s bullshit this early in the morning.  
  
“I’ve relapsed,” Changbin says in a clipped tone. “It’s like that one video I watched in Psych with the mice where this guy didn’t give them the vector to turn off memory expression and then they relearned the behavior that he was trying to make them forget.”

Woojin blinks down at him.

"Woojin, I'm a fucking mouse!"

"Right," Woojin says, stepping over his body to get to the fridge. “You slept with that girl in music theory class again, didn’t you?”

“No. The family studies one.”

Woojin whistles low, rummaging through the fridge for a water bottle while Changbin continues,  “I can still like guys, right? Like, can I say that I’m into them even though I’ve only slept with girls before?”

“Dude, don’t even worry about it.” Woojin says as he sits next to Changbin on the floor, “of course you can.” He resumes, before taking a sip from the bottle in his hand. 

“I was supposed to get dick tonight.”

Woojin chokes on his water. Changbin sits up to pat his back until Woojin’s coughing dies down. “Wait—is that why you’re here so late? I thought—”

“After I slept with that girl I felt guilty, so Minho tried to set me up with some guy who works at Petsmart,” Changbin interrupts nonchalantly, “he was cool, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how Minho told me that he made him cry one time just by riding him.” Woojin can only stare distantly across the room, not sure if he’s actually having this conversation when the sun hasn’t even risen yet. 

Nevertheless, he keeps the conversation going, out of politeness or because he’s genuinely curious, he himself isn't sure, “You couldn’t find anyone else that night?”

Changbin’s silent for a moment, as if he’s suddenly cautious about his next words. “I wasn’t really interested in any of them. I don’t even think I’d be interested in _anyone_ right now but I don’t know, maybe I’m just being picky.”

Woojin hums, “Or it’s because you’re trying too hard to find someone? Honestly, just take your time, you don’t have to rush into these things just because you feel like you need to prove your sexuality or something.”

Changbin looks at him with so much affection that Woojin thinks he’s about to cry. “I love you, bro.”

Woojin snorts, “Go to sleep or you’re gonna pass the fuck out at your 10 a.m.” He says as he pats Changbin’s thigh before lifting himself off the floor. While Woojin sleepily stumbles to his room, the phone held in Changbin’s limp hand lights up.

 **From: minho  
** **Sent: 04:13, Nov 6**  
maybe u just need ur cheeks clapped

Changbin slowly closes his eyes in defeat as he lays back down on the floor again, phone resting on his chest. Maybe he does.

 

——

 

The thing is this.

Changbin has been pining after Woojin since the first year of high school, and now they’re six years deep and his feelings are still hurtling towards imminent heartbreak.

(“I don’t even think I’d be interested in anyone right now but I don’t know, maybe I’m just being picky,” Changbin told him, even though his throat was tight as he looked up at Woojin, the kitchen lights picking up the highlights in his hair and casting a shadow under the line of his jaw making him look unbelievably ethereal. Changbin never realized how much of a filthy liar he actually is.)

It was easy to hide it, considering he’s slept around with girls in almost all of his classes to keep his mind off of his unbearable crush on the older. At least, until his last hook up found out that Changbin was definitely not straight and told her friends, who told their other friends, and those friends told some more friends, that Changbin was actually just a sexually confused disaster.

Sometime between that, Changbin made sure to tell Woojin that ‘hey, surprise! I’m not actually straight and all of my hookups were desperate attempts to suppress that!’ before he can hear it from anyone else. Fortunately, Woojin didn’t seem to mind when he gave him a fist bump and a ‘cool, can we get pizza tonight?’

But now that the protective layer of falsely claimed heterosexuality has been obliterated, Changbin has been extremely cautious to how he acts around Woojin. His touches are sparse, almost like he’s never even touched him at all, emphasizes way too much about how good of a friend Woojin is to him and now, he unironically calls him bro whenever things get too intimate. A defense mechanism that Changbin deeply regrets in developing, especially now, when that’s the only damn thing that comes out of his mouth.

“Bro like, I don’t know bro you mean so much to me bro.” Changbin slurs, clinging onto Woojin’s shoulder as they stumble out the bar. Once Woojin places both hands on his waist to keep him upright, Changbin immediately slumps against his side and tries to bury himself further into the warmth surrounding him.

He can faintly hear Minho’s voice and going from the vibrations coming from Woojin’s chest that Changbin smiles contentedly into, he’s laughing at whatever shit talk Minho’s directing towards him.

By the time they get home, Changbin’s pretty much sobered up by now considering he didn’t really drink the whole round of shots some boy at the bar bought him. At most, he probably drank two, but it’s not like he’s going to admit that anytime soon when Woojin’s large fucking hands are on him. With his head slightly clear though, he can recall some of the snippets of what Minho had said.

(“Next time, tell your boyfriend to stop hitting on guys and leaving them out to dry when he ends up crawling back to you instead,” and Woojin responded with a chuckle, “I’ll try.”)

Changbin’s heart pounds.

“Bro,” he starts again, dragging out the word as they waddle to his room, “ ‘m so glad to have you in my life.”

He looks up to see Woojin smiling out of amusement before he places Changbin on his bed and starts tucking him in. Changbin pouts, “Stay with me.”

“I have my own room for a reason,” Woojin replies, but he’s not showing any intentions to leave when he’s sitting on the edge of the bed while brushing Changbin’s bangs away from his eyes. “And you need to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep better with you,” Changbin forgets to slur his words, and internally panics if Woojin caught on. But the other just asks, “really?” And Changbin can’t respond, the words caught in his throat and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. Woojin sits there as if he’s waiting, for what Changbin isn’t sure, until he finally decides to leave with a ‘good night.’

Changbin doesn’t get much sleep that night, not when it’s two in the morning and he can’t hide from the way his heart aches at the lingering warmth on his side left by Woojin’s body.

  
The months begin to shift and cycle, and soon, it’s almost the end of the year, and Changbin wonders where all that time has gone. Classes have begun to bore down harder on him now that exam week hits him full swing, and it isn’t until now that he’s realized that it’s been a while since him and Woojin have actually seen each other despite living under the same roof.

Woojin only comes home when the sun barely peeks over the horizon, coming back from study sessions with droopy eyes and his overall slumped figure. Changbin rarely sees it since he’s usually in bed by the time Woojin stumbles in, but tonight, he decided to make honest time to study more.

“Fuck, what the fuck?” Changbin hisses under his breath. Woojin turns, only to see him hunched over a general chemistry textbook, staring at his calculator like he wants it to catch on fire.

Changbin doesn’t notice Woojin shuffling towards him until he sits behind him, resting his chin on Changbin’s shoulder, “need help?”

Changbin tenses at the breath on his neck and coughs to hide his squeak, “No. Maybe. Sorta, but I’ll be good.” He turns his head slightly to look at Woojin, “you should go to bed.”

Woojin’s eyes are closed and only responds with a tired hum; Changbin isn’t sure if he was even listening in the first place. All he can do is sigh and get back to work, juggling the calculations in front of him and ignoring the weight on him all at once. Suddenly, Woojin’s chest presses against the rest of his back as the older uses both hands to reach for Changbin’s homework, squinting at the problems on the paper before grabbing the pencil from Changbin’s hand.

“You’ve got the wrong units,” Woojin mumbles, hand already doing the problem Changbin had been stuck on for at least half an hour. “You can’t subtract joules from kilojoules so you just convert one of them to the other unit and you get this.”

Changbin barely glances at the problem Woojin’s working out as he watches his hands instead, how his veins bulge because of how tiny he writes and the overall size of his hands. Woojin, in general, is just...big, and all he can think about is how much Woojin has to slouch over Changbin, and the way his arms envelop his own unintentionally, leaving every inch of his skin warm. It’s hard to breathe like this, with every inhale Changbin smells Woojin, sweat and cologne and the gum he had before and it makes him hyper aware of Woojin’s lips being so close to his ear—

“So it’s something like this,” Woojin says, and it snaps Changbin out of his dream-like state.

“Oh,” is his quiet response.

If it were anyone else, Changbin would be grateful and the situation at hand would be totally normal and end with both parties finally going to bed after a week's worth of late night studying. But this is Woojin, and the only thing that comes from this is a finished Chemistry problem and a hard on that Changbin desperately tries to cover with both hands.  
  
Woojin tilts his head on Changbin’s shoulder again like it’s some bone-deep relief, probably waiting for Changbin to work on his next problem that he’d undoubtedly would need help on. The weight of him is solid, perfectly settled into the curve of Changbin’s nape and Woojin wraps his arms around his stomach naturally as if he’s done it a million times.

The burning on Changbin’s cheeks won’t leave him alone no matter how strongly he wishes it to, so he excuses himself to the bathroom by slightly nudging the older with his elbow and darting across the living room.

Changbin, embarrassed, but still very turned on, sits on the floor before sliding down his sweatpants and underwear. He leans against the wall behind him, head tilted back as he take in a deep breath and mentally prays to all of the gods he can think of for forgiveness before he quickly pulls down his sweatpants.

He sighs out a breath once he wraps his fingers around his cock, hand warm compared to the cool air of the bathroom. Changbin hadn’t noticed how much he’s been sweating until the wetness on the back of his neck trails down to his spine. He thinks Woojin would kiss like that too, slow and light on his skin, but enough to leave tingles on that he’ll remember forever. Changbin pauses. It feels a little...weird to be thinking of Woojin while touching himself, especially when said boy is in the living room right next to him. But the thought conflicts with the sudden image of Woojin seeing him like this, small and caught off guard. How Changbin would have to tilt his head all the way up to see Woojin towering over him. His dick twitches.

He closes his eyes as he lets his mind take him back to where he was just a few minutes ago. The heat against his back, the cool air fanning over his nape, and the hands on his stomach that he, if Changbin had the courage, would bring one of them under his shirt, and the other palming him against his joggers.

He quickly wraps both hands around himself, quickening his pace as he thinks about Woojin forcing his legs open, relentlessly working on his cock even when Changbin squirms against him. He bets Woojin’s strong enough to hold him down regardless, forcing him to stay still and just take whatever he’s been given. A noise builds up in his throat as he arches his back and clenches his eyes shut, but it doesn’t come out. Instead, Changbin sharply exhales through his nose as his whole body convulses and it makes him desperately think of Woojin calming him down, pausing just to rub his stomach and whispering praise into his ear before picking up the pace again.

And kissing. God, he really wants to kiss Woojin.

His thoughts and movements come to a halt when Changbin can faintly hear a pair of feet padding against the wooden floorboards, and he immediately leans over and grabs his t-shirt to bring it over his cock. He doesn’t know why he’s hiding when the damn door is locked and Woojin wouldn’t barge into a bathroom, but it’s not like his sex monkey brain ever thinks things out.

There’s a knock on the door and Changbin tries his best to shut the fuck up, both hands now holding the hem of his shirt to the floor to keep him grounded which he now learns was a huge mistake since the tip of his cock rubs against the fabric. It doesn’t help that it keeps twitching against his shirt either, the traitor.

A muffled “Changbin?” comes through the door, and the voice is soft, bell-like and it shouldn’t make his toes curl as much as it does and he holds back another whimper.

“Yeah?” Changbin forces out, trying his best to keep still.

“I think I’m gonna make some ramen, you want some?” Changbin’s half listening to the words coming out of his mouth and more on the way they sound, how he’s so close and right there. Despite his earlier attempts, he starts grinding against the underside of his shirt.

“I’m—” The word comes out high pitched and Changbin momentarily bites his cheek in frustration. “mm’not hungry.” He quietly inhales a shaky breath, his hips swiveling frantically and he can feel his shirt getting wet near the inside of wrist. “I’m going straight to bed.”

“Then I’ll make sure to save you some for tomorrow if you want,” Changbin doesn’t respond, brain too foggy when he’s so close to cumming. Woojin continues, “just get a lot of sleep tonight, okay? You sound sick.”

Changbin can’t take it anymore. His hand finally wraps around his cock over the fabric, glad at how wet and sticky it became which is just what he needs to fist at his cock with reckless abandon. He barely notices the lewd squelch it makes, the noise increasing his embarrassment and desperation. When Changbin comes, his entire body shakes from the intensity of it and lands on his elbow, saving him from falling face first. The strength in his arm doesn’t last forever, though, and he slowly brings himself to lay down on the floor belly down. He squirms at the oversensitivity of his cock against the cold, tiled floor but it eventually subsides.

Woojin must’ve left by now, and Changbin can’t help but feel unsettled, disturbed and dirty. Also embarrassed in the worst, soul consuming way at the realization that the front of his shirt is completely soaked and sticking to his skin.

He slowly gets up, taking off his shirt and pulling up his pants and underwear that have fortunately been unstained. He feels a bit weightless as he stumbles out the bathroom, not bothering to look Woojin’s way because, in his own mind, he just breached his trust even if Woojin had no idea what was going on. The sinking feeling in his stomach lasts up until he crashes into bed, crawling under the covers before he sighs into his pillow.

He’s so fucked.

 

—— 

 

“What is it now?” Minho sighs, tossing his plastic fork in his bowl of salad. He finally glances up at Changbin, who’s been staring at him from the other end of the table like he’s ready to admit to treason.

“I jacked off in my bathroom while Woojin was talking to me through the door,” Changbin blurts out in a steady and even breath.

The annoyance in Minho’s face doesn’t waver, “you still haven’t hopped on him yet?”

Changbin kicks him under the table, “Minho!”

“Look, I don’t really see the problem in this. You needed to masturbate, Woojin was conveniently there, end of story,” Minho responds as he puts the lid back on his container, losing his appetite at the mere thought of Changbin doing anything sexual. “Besides, its not like it’s your first time getting off thinking about him.

“I’ve never done that, thank you very much.” Changbin grumbled back, tearing open his second roll of kimbap, “that’s like, against code.”

“Yeah, for straight men, not between some gay idiots that’ve been living with each other for two years and would’ve developed mutual feelings for each other by now,” Minho says.

“You think he’s gay?” Changbin asks, and Minho rolls his eyes because of course that’s the only thing his small brain can take out of that sentence.

“I know he’s gay. It isn’t like he’s hiding it.”

There’s silence for a second before Changbin scoffs. “What do you mean not hiding it it’s not like he ever—”

Oh. _Oh_.

Changbin vaguely remembers that one time Woojin came home late, coming from a parade downtown he said. He was covered in glitter and paint. That one time Woojin talked about his first hookup the morning after and never said a name, just the word they. And especially that one time in high school where they both went to Senior prom together when they didn’t have dates. They only planned to go in order to sabotage it for the overbearing couples that wouldn’t shut up about the slow dance bit, but instead of whipping out the silly string and confetti blasters they managed to sneak in under their suits, they just stood there, watching. Changbin remembers when their hands brushed against each other and none of them pulled away.

Minho raises an eyebrow, “Is it coming together now?”

Changbin is truly, utterly, and completely fucked.

 

——

 

When Changbin returns home it’s already almost dark, the mid-winter sun setting later and later every day but still sinking early in the evening. Stepping through the front door, Changbin toes his shoes off and shrugs his backpack off, letting it slide down to the crook of his arm and drop to the floor with a soft thump. It’s quiet, and he figures that Woojin hasn’t came home yet and he feels almost guilty at the relief of knowing that. Once he throws himself onto the couch, ready to take a much needed nap, it’s short lived when Woojin comes out of the kitchen, feet stuttering to a stop when he sees Changbin.

“Hey.” Woojin starts.

Changbin gives a slight, pained smile, “hey.”

Changbin wonders if it’s just him that feels the sudden uneasy atmosphere, because there isn’t any reason for Woojin to feel awkward in this situation. But it’s until he notices Woojin picking at the tab on the soda in his hands that Changbin realizes he must be bothered about something. He has half the mind to ignore it and press his face into the cushions. He’s been so good at ignoring awkward tension and right now was no exception. Except, he can’t really do that when Woojin suddenly walks towards him, sits on the coffee table just in front of the couch, and slowly sets the can down. The look Woojin has on his face when they make eye contact has Changbin sensing that something’s up.

“Can we talk?” Woojin asks, but it’s not in his usual shy demeanor when he asks Changbin to do something. It’s serious, like Woojin has suddenly gained the confidence he’s been trying to muster for years. Changbin doesn’t think he’s ever seen him like that.

“About what?” Changbin responds cautiously.

“About what’s been going on lately. I don’t know it’s like—I don’t know,” Woojin trails off before he continues again.” It’s like you’ve been avoiding me.

“What? No dude, it’s not—” Changbin sits himself up, trying to will his nerves so that Woojin doesn’t pick up on anything. “It’s nothing like that”

“Then what is it? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you hardly talk to me now. And whenever we do you always cut it short.”

Changbin can’t respond, can’t even look up at him when his eyes are fixed on the rug while he wills himself to not say anything dumb. Woojin sighs, “If it’s something I did, you know you can just tell me. I mean we’ve been friends since high school—”

“That’s why—” Changbin interrupts, “that’s why I can’t...tell you, Woojin. Sometimes there’s stuff that you shouldn’t know about.”

Woojin furrows his eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Changbin clenches and unclenches his fists by his side. Is he going to do this? Is he really fucking do this? In this moment where Changbin looks like complete, utter shit after spending too many nights staring at a blindingly bright screen and frowning so hard that there’s permanent canyons on the sides of his mouth? Changbin finally brings himself to look up at Woojin, who doesn’t try to to hide how hurt he is at the fact that his best friend of six years is holding yet another secret from him. Okay, so he is fucking doing this.

“I like you,” Changbin says. He says it so weakly that if his voice were tangible he could easily snap it in half. Those words have been said so many times, but it’s been for girls that were meant for a one night fling, for girls he honest to god never gave a shit about. But this is Woojin, and Changbin wishes he could say it as confidently as he had before when he was faking it.

“I like you,” he tries again.

And before Changbin knows it, Woojin grabs him by the face to press their lips together. Changbin doesn’t move for a second, frozen in place. It’s like his brain got turned off by a button on his lips and now he is just sitting there in dormancy. But then he jumps to action, pressing his lips back, probably too hard going by the pain shooting up in his bottom lip, but it’s not what matters right now because 1) they’re kissing and 2) whoa, they’re kissing. Changbin pushes at Woojin’s chest until the older parts away, hands still on the sides of his face.

“Wait, does this mean—” Changbin gets interrupted when Woojin dives back for another kiss, and he whines when he can feel Woojin’s tongue inside this time. Changbin closes his eyes, not minding that his question was left unfinished because the answer to it is strikingly clear. Woojin likes him.

“In the bathroom,” he stuttered out once they finally part for air, Woojin’s fingers were on the back of his neck and Changbin couldn’t help but keen at the warmth and the way Woojin’s nostrils flare as he slowly takes a breath in a means to calm himself down. This was all really too much, “In the bathroom I touched myself while you were talking to me through the door.”

Woojin froze. “What?”

“Last night,” Changbin went on, a flash of heat on his skin and he closes his eyes because he can’t muster up the courage to look at him when he’s saying something so embarrassing out loud. Woojin takes note of that. “I thought of how you were holding me and got hard—ah!”

Before he could finish his sentence, Woojin practically yanks Changbin’s pants and underwear down and fists at his cock. Changbin arches his back before squirming left and right at the sensation, “Nngh—wait. Slow down, shit. Woojin—”

“Did you come hearing my voice?” Woojin whispers into his ear, and Changbin, mortified, tries to push his face in between the corners of the couch. “You’re so...fuck Changbin.”

Suddenly the heat and the touches are gone, but Changbin can’t bring himself to see what’s going on. So he relies on his ears, hearing the noises of Woojin’s belt buckle coming off, the slide of fabric over skin and the couch dipping once again

He can feel Woojin’s hands on either side of him, “Changbin, look at me.”

Changbin slowly, shakily, reluctantly brings his hands down and his he can’t help the wave of emotions to surge through his chest at that moment. Woojin’s looking down at him, a slight sheen of sweat on his temples, and the look on his eyes are protective, affectionate, and what makes him shudder the most, almost predatory.

This is the first time he’s had a man on top of him like this. This is the first time he’s had anyone on top of him like this.

“I want you to watch me,” Woojin says, trailing a hand down his chest leaving goosebumps in its wake. He stops at the juncture between the top of his thigh and cock, thumb grazing over Changbin’s balls.

Changbin twitches, and once it starts it can’t fucking stop because there’s so many things going through his head that overwhelms him.

“You’re so sensitive,” Woojin mutters, index finger digging into his slit. “You like this?”

“Yeah—”

“What do you like about it?”

Changbin doesn’t respond right away. Another moan is torn from his lips when Woojin brings his whole hand around him and Changbin’s hand clamps down onto his wrist. “Please—it’s so. Don’t make me say it out loud.”

Woojin lets out a breathy laugh, and Changbin wants to cry at whole cruel and hot this is, “I want to hear you Changbin. I want to know how I’ve been making you feel all this time.”

Changbin swallows, “I like...how I can just come from this. You don’t even have to do anything, shit—hah—”

Woojin quickened his pace. “Keep going.”

“You can just, look at me, when I’m like this and just...tower over me like—”

“Like I’d eat you alive,” Woojin interrupts, face dangerously close to his own. His eyes are half-lidded, breath fanning against his cheek before Woojin starts kissing down his neck “God, I’ve been wanting to for so long.”

Changbin full out sobs. It’s a pathetic, wimpy little bitch cry and he wants to bury himself in embarrassment. “Just—Woojin please.” He spreads his legs further, hoping that he doesn’t have to voice what he wants Woojin to do next.

Fortunately, he does and quickly grabs at the lube in his nightstand drawer, squirting an excessive amount on his fingers before warming them up and slathering it all over Changbin’s rim. He has one hand on the underside of Changbin’s thigh, and Changbin has never felt so exposed and it’s oddly exhilarating, he wants to be in every vulnerable position possible in front of Woojin.

Woojin works his finger in as deep as it’ll go, curls and uncurls his fingers until Changbin’s swiveling his hips as much as he can in Woojin’s grip. They’re thick, rough and everything Changbin had imagined them to be. Once he’s finally got three fingers inside of him, pumping in and out at a ruthless pace that makes the couch creak, Changbin can only lays his head back against the arm of the couch, mouth opening dumbly as he lets out high-pitched moans.

He blushes, and for a moment, imagines what he must look like.

"You're so cute," Woojin says as if he can read his mind. "And all mine, right?" The words send a shiver down his spine and just then he can feel slick fingers slip out of him, and he waits with anticipation with what comes next. "Say it."

"I'm yours, hyung…" he replies shakily. He can't believe that this is happening, can't comprehend that those words are leaving Woojin’s mouth and it feels like a dream.

Woojin pushes in slowly, and Changbin hisses at the stretch but his eyes roll to the back of his head at how full he feels. Changbin scrambles to hold Woojin’s arms, overwhelmed by all the sensations from the sheets against his back, the softness of Woojin’s skin, and the growing heat inside of him.

His lower back stings from how he’s bent to accommodate Woojin’s height, his size, his everything. Changbin knows he’s going to feel this tomorrow. Changbin hopes he feels it for the rest of the week.

His dick twitches when he can feel Woojin still growing, “Are you—” He grunts at the particularly rough thrust, “not even—” and another one, “fully hard yet?”

Woojin bends over and presses his forehead against his, “it takes a while.”

Fuck.

Woojin lifts himself up, angling a certain way that makes Changbin grip at the cushions under him that his fingertips turn white. “There, there please—fuck.”

Woojin grips his legs and slowly pounds into him, hips rolling into him that it drives Changbin crazy. Woojin can’t help the words spilling out of his mouth, “you’re so tight,” and “fuck you’re so pretty like this Changbin.”

Changbin can only responds with pathetic whines at the praise, and when Woojin’s hips stutter and try to pull out, Changbin locks him in with his legs. “In me. Come inside.”

Woojin lets out a guttural moan when he slams into Changbin one last time, shaking as he releases. Woojin catches his breath while Changbin moves to wrap his hand around his own cock, but before he can start moving Woojin ducks his head in between his legs, licking his thighs stained with his own cum. Changbin jolts in surprise, and the last thing he expects is Woojin plunging his tongue inside of him.

“That’s—!” Changbin yelps, eyes widening at the sight. Filthy, he wants to say, but it’s what brings him to coming so hard that white flashes before his eyes. Changbin can’t stop jerking at the intensity of his orgasm, starts hiccuping when he can’t stop coming when there’s so much on his chest already.

Woojin can only watch in astonishment, “Holy shit.”

Changbin can only look up at Woojin, adoringly dazed out. The bed shakes once Woojin gets up to leave, coming back with a wet towel to clean him off. Changbin snaps out of his post-sex haze when the artificial lights coming from the street lamps outside seep through the curtains. “Bro—”

“Please, and I can’t stress this enough,” Woojin starts, “do not call me bro when I’m cleaning cum off of you.”

Changbin lets out a breathy laugh, bringing both of his hands to cover his face because he just realized how absurd all of this really is. “So you really like me?” Changbin asks, voice muffled.

Woojin scoffs, grabbing Changbin’s wrist to pull them down, “do you ever fucking hear yourself?”

“If I did I feel like this would’ve happened a lot sooner.”

Woojin just shakes his head, before he slowly plants a kiss on his eyelids, his temple, his cheeks, and eventually, his lips. Changbin scoots to the side once Woojin lays himself down on the couch. They lay there like that, Woojin holding him so tightly that he feels like he’s going to burst. He can feel Woojin kissing the top of his head, and Changbin trails a finger over his chest. Though Changbin had imagined this whole confession thing to be a lot more...romantic, Changbin looks up at Woojin, whose eyes are fluttering closed. This was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll edit the shit out of this later im tired and need this out of my docs


End file.
